


The Cell

by Dillian



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Female Loki, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape, Rough Oral Sex, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:16:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8519950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: I was feeling down this morning, I wanted to distract myself, so I wrote a scene of Tony Stark and Loki, held against their will by torturers.  This might be a one-shot, or it might go longer.  I really don't know, but it did what it was supposed to do, it took my mind off my own situation.  Which is good.
I hope this pleases some readers.  If I do add more, I will also edit the description, to say more.





	

_**The Avengers,** _**Iron Man,** _**Thor,** and all situations and characters thereof, belong strictly and solely to Marvel Comics. This is a fan-work, meant for enjoyment only, and not for any material profit. ___

Room's dark, smell's mold, coming from... Who knows where the mold is coming from? The sounds are the scary part. Whipping, screams, what sounds like moaning, coming... – Oh god! – ...coming from the same room he's in. Painful rasp of the chains around his wrists: Does he wonder that ...whoever it is, is moaning? Question is, why's he not moaning too? But that would require him to feel something, and if he did that, he'd fall apart completely.

Who knows why that's even a problem? Chained up, god knows where... And he knows what they have in store for him, he watched it firsthand last night, with the other guy. ...Other girl? Dark room like this, hard to tell what you're seeing. Last night, shadowy scene, that he watched, because he couldn't help watching, because he's chained up here, and he saw it:

The other guy (or girl?) is skinny, pale-pale skin, dark hair, about shoulder-length. Light coming from... where? Flashlight, or maybe it was through the barred part of the door, just enough light. Two black figures, they came in, pulled the other one up from their bed, yanked him, or her... by the hair, it looked like.

“On your knees.” Crack of a voice, came from the bigger guy. “Get down, me first, then him.”

“Anything...” Cellmate's voice, low, could be a guy's voice, could be a girl's. Doesn't matter, not okay to treat anyone like this. Good old Tony Stark, always stating the obvious. “I'll do it,” his cellmatee says, “I'll do anything. Just no more whips.”

You knew right then, there were going to be more whips in this guy's future. And what's worse, Tony still cared, even though the whips are definitely in his future too.

“Yeah, sure.” A funny guy's voice, coming from the second one who came into the cell, the skinny one. “Anything you say, poor baby, we're gonna take _good_ care of you.”

Oh, they took good care of him (or her), all right. And all Tony could see was a white back, stripes looking black in the dim light, all over it. All he could hear was the pleased grunts of the other ones, the ones that came in. “Mm, yeah, that's good. – Come on you fucker, suck like you mean it! – There, there, that's the way.”

Filthy sound of their cries when they got off. Filthier still, their laughter, when they were whipping their victim afterward. And the cellmate, the guy (or girl), making no sound at all the whole time, saving moans until the others left, and he (she) and Tony were alone again.

Who knows how many people are being kept down here besides them? And who knows what the plan is, is it just the sex, or is there more to it? Helluva way to go, kidnapped by some kind of sex-torture ring, and then fucked to death. Along with...

Tony follows the moaning. He gropes his way across the dark cell, almost bumps into the cot where his cellmate is lying. Looks down...

Pale face, looking back up at him. Green eyes like cat-eyes, too big for the thin face. Last time he saw Loki in chains was when Thor took him back to Asgard. Back when life was good, and things were normal, and right still looked like it could win. And now he's here, and Loki's in chains again, and he looks like shit... _She_ looks like shit; Loki's done something, magic, or something. Bare-ass naked, soft breasts, definitely a woman's body.

“Reindeer games?”

Snotty voice is a thread of what it used to be ( _what it should be_ ). “Hmm, the man in the iron suit.” Little gasping sounds... Whatever happened to Loki, he's at the end of his strength (or she is, or whatever). “Are your friends going to avenge this too?”

Tony doesn't even know where his friends are. After what happened, they could be anywhere, they could be here, even. He thinks about Cap, here, about that super-endurance of his, and how these goons here could pretty much play with him forever. He thinks about Natasha, and what she's endured in the past, and what she might be enduring now. One good reason for thinking about others: It stops you thinking about your own situation for a while. Then it hits him again, the full reality of it, like a punch in the gut.

And then he talks to Loki, if only because it's a distraction. “Why are you a girl? Just for shits and giggles?”

Something almost like a smile on the thin face. A mean look... A Loki-look. “Why are you captured? I thought your suit was supposed to protect you from everything.”

Banter, as a way to protect you from terror? Nick-and-Nora, 1930's-style screwball repartee? “I thought your magic was supposed to protect you. What happened to being a god?”

“Protects me from dying.” A little twist of the lips as s/he says that, then, “I'm sure that will come in handy sooner or later... It's more than you have, anyway.”

“Eh, I'll get through this,” Tony says as if he believes it. “You know me, I'm too obnoxious to die.”

For some reason, he's worried about Loki, god knows why, the little Asgardian has certainly never given two shits about him. But for some reason, who knows why, maybe it's that new woman-body, which would sure as hell have turned him on if this were any other day. Maybe it's his protector-instincts. Stupid protector-instincts.

Anyway, he's got 30 pounds of iron, locked to his wrists. Tony sinks down, sitting on a floor that's wet with god-knows-what, next to Loki's cot. “So this is what it comes to,” he says. “You and me, two enemies, locked up here together.”

A silence, Loki looks at him. Then, “I never saw you as an enemy.”

“Yeah?” Tony's tired. He leans against the cot ...against Loki, on the cot. Tickle of Loki's hair, stiff with he doesn't want to think what, against his own bare skin. “You sure as hell acted like you did,” he says.

“You were nothing to me.” The words are Loki-words, but the tone? Almost friendly. “An insignificant insect. You are not your big green friend, Stark.”

“So, he was an enemy?”

Creak of the cot, Loki sits up. Tony moves to the cot, to sit next to him. Human comfort, or whatever kind of Being Loki is. Two warm bodies, anyway, no sex in it, but just... comfort.

“He was the one that I underestimated. And I paid for it, didn't I? My father's prison makes this one look...” The husk of a laugh, like Loki's throat hurts... Tony doesn't want to think about why. “Actually, it was better than this.”

Put an arm around god-shoulders... Nice shoulders. Too bony, but nice. ...And lean close, feel the sticky hair, brushing against his face. “No stinking puddles of who-knows-what on the floor?”

A laugh from Loki. “Makes all the difference, doesn't it?”

Reality is, they're trapped here. Trapped by who knows who, and who knows what is going to happen to them. Reality is, there's no way out, not now, and maybe there never will be. Reality is, he might die here. – He might even want to die, rather than to live through what's surely going to happen to him. But human life is stubborn, and the mind constructs its barriers where it can, and Tony is here in this cell with a woman, or a Loki, or with someone, anyway. And after a while the barriers are up in his mind again, and he's surviving. He cups Loki's face in his hands. “I could kiss you right now.”

“Anthony Stark.” Loki's soft breath brushes his face. “Always too much talk, and not enough action.”

A kiss, a good kiss. Loki's mouth tastes like pain, if that even can be a taste, but it tastes like comfort too. And his arms – _Her_ arms. – are warm.

And after that, no talk. Tony lays Loki back down again, very gently, because of those horrible marks on her back. Gentle fingers against the torn flesh, and then moving, still gently, to touch breasts that are perfect. Round breasts, nipples that perk to excitement just as if life was still normal. Mouth on the so-warm breasts, tongue teasing the nipples, while he feels his own excitement growing. Mouth moves lower. Loki groans, good groans, this time. Tony's moves to taste between her legs, tastes her growing moist there.

“Perfect gentleman...” Loki's holding onto his (her) usual ironic tone for dear life. “Your friends wouldn't recognize you...”

“No?” Tony finds Loki's most sensitive place. He knows what to do there. He's going to pleasure her, because giving keeps his own emotions back. Because right now he needs to be good to someone. For once in his life, he doesn't care if he gets anything back. ...Okay, yeah, Loki's right. His friends really wouldn't recognize him.

Loki arches her back to get closer. Tony can hear her breathing, quicker, rougher, as she gets ready to come. It's a good sound, in this good thing they're doing, this life-affirming thing. Then... “Oh... Stark... Ohgodohgod, Stark!” She jerks under his hands, his mouth is flooded with her juices. Yeah, this is good, this is so right.

“And after this, I do you,” Loki says, a long, long time later.

“Of course, it's expected.” Tony does nothing about it though. Right now, the holding is enough.

 


End file.
